


At Your Fingertips

by Slow_Burn_Sally



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Aziraphale, Comfort, Eventual smut because I can't not smut, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Love Confessions, M/M, Massage, Second chapter will be all business, Sweet Crowley, Sweetness, Third chapter will be a smutty smut smut fest, Top Crowley (Good Omens), first chapter is fluffy, snuggles, sweet Aziraphale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-19 02:49:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20323846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slow_Burn_Sally/pseuds/Slow_Burn_Sally
Summary: Someone requested a sweet massage fic. Someone else requested no smut. I wrote a sweet, non-smutty first chapter, but by the third chapter, it goes off the rails into Smut Town





	1. Chapter 1

They were taking the bus back to London, but the light up marquee atop the vehicle clearly said “Oxford”. Regardless, Crowley made sure it would go to London. He’d offered Aziraphale the option to spend the night at his place, and at first, the angel had balked. “I don’t think my side would like that”. His hopeful eyes fading into a well worn look of regret.

Crowley had reminded him gently that they were both in fact on their own side, having effectively handed in their resignations to Heaven and Hell.. What they had now was each other. And humanity of course. Just as they’d always had really. Crowley didn’t say all that, keeping it simple. Saying only “You don’t have a side anymore”. After that, while they sat, side by side on the bus, Aziraphale had changed his mind and agreed to stay. 

“You know dear, now that you mention it, I believe I  _ will _ spend the night. I have nowhere else to go, and really, what does it matter anymore? They know we’ve been… you know… connected. No further harm can be done”. 

Crowley, choosing to ignore the fact that the angel still needed to come up with elaborate validations for spending time with him, was silently overjoyed. He needed all the time he could get with the angel before the stark morning arrived, bringing with it, the light of dawn and an uncertain fate for them both. He doubted that either side would come after them tonight. There was too much to do, what with the standing down of two sets of troops, with smoothing things over with upper management. They wouldn’t dare come tonight. Not before both sets of insufferable entities had devised a game plan. And that usually took a while. Bureaucratic paperwork and all that. Too many forms to fill out in triplicate.

  
  


Crowley knew he was tired. He felt wrung out and his human body felt achy, his limbs heavy, and he was in desperate need of some scotch, but Aziraphale? Aziraphale looked utterly exhausted. The angel was pale, even for him. He had dark smudges under his usually bright eyes, and his mouth was drawn down in the semi-grimace of people who are fighting sleep. Perhaps he’d break his centuries long record of staying fully conscious tonight and actually succumb to a nap? 

Both of them were worriers in their own way. Crowley though, only worried when situations that merited worry actually presented themselves, whereas poor Aziraphale worried semi-constantly. At least that’s how it had seemed over the millennia of their shared friendship. Aziraphale found their connection stressful. It didn’t stop him from calling Crowley regularly to chat, or inviting Crowley out for dinner. It didn’t stop him from flashing such smiles at Crowley. Smiles that made the demon feel nervous flutterings in his stomach and a warmth pooling his chest. 

Aziraphale was always the one putting on the breaks though, keeping the boundaries shored up. He was the one who kept up the appearances of being a “good angel” while Crowley had quickly and fervently dived into a connection with the nervous angel. He’d pushed, he’d mocked, he’d joked, he’d tested Aziraphale’s boundaries over and over. For fun. For entertainment. And then as the years turned into centuries and stretched into millennia, because he needed to see Aziraphale blush and get flustered and reprimand him. He needed it like a drug.

He needed  _ Aziraphale _ . And the events of the recently averted Armageddon, along with the heightened risk that they’d be torn apart by opposing sides had only made that need more palpable. As they sat on the Oxford bus to London, Crowley felt his fingers twitch as they lay on the upholstered seat next to Aziraphale’s pale hand. Feeling bold, (narrowly averting being consumed in vengeful bales of hellfire had a way of engendering boldness), he gently reached out and placed his hand tentatively over Aziraphale’s. The gentlest of touches. Like a light cotton blanket laid on top of summer sheets. 

He was heart poundingly pleased when Aziraphale immediately turned his hand palm up and laced their fingers together, all while keeping his eyes trained on the dark countryside slipping by outside the window. Aziraphale’s hand, soft and warm felt like distant, vague memories of heaven. It felt so sweet and reassuring, that Crowley felt his anxieties melt away. They sat this way, hand in hand for the rest of the journey. 

Even when Aziraphale turned from the window to bring up the subject of what to do to avert Heaven and Hell’s wrath, and they slowly but surely worked out the plan to swap bodies, the angel had kept Crowley’s hand gently interlaced with his own. It was part of what made the plan feel like it could work. They were so close to one another, they knew one another so intimately, that it had to work. 

The bus finally pulled up in front of Crowley’s flat, the confused driver giving them an absent minded “g’night” as they stepped down onto the street. Crowley led the slump shouldered, smudge eyed Aziraphale into the lift to his flat, keeping an eye trained furtively on the angel as the lift rose, dinging up to the third floor. Aziraphale’s brow was furrowed, his gaze pointed down at the floor in tense contemplation. Crowley noticed smudge marks on the angel’s favorite coat and a small soot mark on the angel’s cheek, the one that had faced away from them while they sat on the bus. His heart clenched with sympathy. Poor Aziraphale. He’d finally been shown the unavoidable truth, that his side, just like Crowley’s side, were nothing more than war hungry, single minded goons. They’d both known this for centuries, but Aziraphale had fought the knowledge so much harder than Crowley had. Had tried to believe longer. Probably because he loved God and hadn’t wanted to believe that She’d authorized so many unpleasant, painful, gut wrenching things to transpire (or almost transpire as it were). 

Ever since the flood, Crowley had watched Aziraphale wrestle valiantly with the twin knowledge that he loved God with every fiber of his being, and that She’d allowed such devastating things to happen. Had ordered them to happen no less. He’d seen the toll this took on the angel over the millennia. Tonight, he felt keenly the disappointment and sadness that Aziraphale must be experiencing. 

They were standing silently in Crowley’s foyer, both momentarily lost in thought. Crowley placed a warm hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder, causing the angel to look up at him with distracted eyes.

“Care for a drink angel?” Crowley asked gently. He must remember not to tease Aziraphale too much tonight. 

“Oh… oh yes dear” Aziraphale replied in a small voice, accompanied by a weak smile. “That would be lovely thank you. Whatever you’ve got”

Crowley sauntered off to the kitchen to grab the bottle of scotch he had squirreled away in a cabinet and two tumblers. “Make yourself at home angel!” he called over his shoulder as he went. He was pleased as he heard the rustle of Aziraphale’s coat being removed and draped over the arm of his large, plush, leather sofa. Next was the noise of a pair of old shoes, shined to within an inch of their lives, being pushed off and placed with a faint click and placed to the side, on the polished marble flooring by the sofa. 

_ Good  _ he thought with a grin.  _ Take your suit of armor off. The war is averted, for now.  _ For that’s what Aziraphale’s coat and shiny shoes and bowtie really were. They were a suit of armour. Just as thick and impenetrable as the actual suit of armor he’d worn when they’d first broached the subject of the Arrangement, back in 527 AD. They kept Aziraphale safely buttoned up and protected from Crowley’s hungry eyes and soft touches and the endless temptation of his friendship. The bowtie in particular.. The human throat was one of their most vulnerable places. Easy to pierce. Flanked by the two massive and strong muscles of the sternocleidomastoid, stretching from jaw to clavicle, the very front of the throat, like the soft expanse of the human stomach, was a weak spot, easily exploited by an enemy’s knife. 

When humans feel shock and fear, their hands often fly to the front of their throats. When panic sets in, the human body will swallow reflexively, being that the mechanism that controls swallowing helps to alleviate anxiety. This is why eating is so soothing to humans. Why it is so soothing to Aziraphale. Why Crowley finds swallowing down endless glasses of wine and tumblers of hard liquor a balm to his fears… of losing Aziraphale. Of being found out… They both have a lot to be nervous about. 

Aziraphale’s bowtie, and his fussy scarves and kerchiefs of prior centuries, had always protected this soft, penetrable place on him. It was a piece of armor guarding his vulnerable throat, just as surely as his ancient and well cared for coat kept him wrapped up against Crowley’s soft touches. Crowley couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the skin of Azirapahle’s back or neck or chest. Or even his upper arms, always wrapped in shirt sleaves. Probably several hundred years ago now. 

He grabbed the scotch and the two tumblers and swung his way back to the living room, where Aziraphale was sitting, primly, if a bit rumpled on Crowley’s expanse of black leather couch, looking a bit like a swan adrift on a winter lake. Crowley placed the tumblers and the scotch down and settled himself next to Azirapahle, the mutually and silently agreed upon two or three feet apart from him so as not to increase his ages old anxiety about the demon getting too close. 

Old habits died hard. Or didn’t die at all Crowley realized with a pang of sadness. 

“Well” He began, tipping the scotch bottle to pour amber liquid into Aziraphale’s glass and then his own. “Today was a rough one wasn’t it angel?”

“Yes indeed” Aziraphale remarked, reaching for his tumbler. He turned briefly to Crowley and raised his glass for a toast “To new beginnings” he intoned, in a voice that was far too distant and sad for the cheery words he’d spoken.

“Yes” Crowley replied somberly, clicking his glass against the angel’s “To new beginnings”

They sat and drank in silence for several long minutes. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. They’d been drinking together, in taverns and pubs and bars and clubs and in basements and under ancient trees in dark forests for as many years as there had been alcohol to consume. 

Eventually, Aziraphale broke the silence. “I think I might just try out sleeping tonight dear boy. I usually can’t see the appeal, but tonight, I want to shut it all out. You understand don’t you?”

“Of course I do angel. You can take my bed and I’ll stay here.”

“Nonsense Crowley. You’re the one who actually enjoys sleep. I’ll lie down here for a few hours and you keep your bed”

With that, Aziraphale put his tumbler down and brought a hand up to his neck, wincing. “I think this body is wearing down a bit” he remarked with a tight voice. “I’ve had a crick in my neck and my upper shoulder since 2008. I miracle it away and it returns within hours. This old vessel has started complaining at me.” 

Crowley swung his head around to look swiftly at Aziraphale. He felt a small thrill of adrenaline course through him as the words formed themselves and spilled from his scotch lubricated mouth before he could stop them. “I could.. See what I can do.. About your neck and your back.. If you want”

Aziraphale looked up with mild surprise from where he’d been clutching ineffectually at the place where his neck joined his shoulder, his eyebrows rising with an unspoken question

“I’ve.. picked up quite a few massage techniques over the centuries” Crowley remarked simply. “If you spend enough time in circles where people enjoy feeling good, you… well.. You can’t help but pick some things up.” He saw a brief flash of nervous concern flit over Aziraphale’s features and hurried to explain further “Just as I’m sure you’ve picked up quite a few cooking tips over the years.. Being that you love to eat. Well, I’ve gotten pretty good at massage. I used to rub the kinks out of Cleopatra’s neck.”

He saw Aziraphale relax a little, and knew the angel was contemplating the vast array of food knowledge he’d acquired from 75 lifetimes of hanging around countless kitchens and restaurants and small, artisanal bakeries. Crowley’s excuse for offering to touch him was working its way through Aziraphale’s nervous brain, being subjected to checks and balances. Apparently, the offer cleared the angel’s standards of good and proper, because he gave a weak smile and shrugged. “That would be much appreciated Crowley. What do you need me to do?”

“Not to be too forward angel, but it would probably work better for both of us if we went to my bedroom” He saw Aziraphale’s intake of breath..saw the beginnings of what promised to be an epic blush start to creep its way up the angel’s neck and hurried to reassure him..”Don’t worry angel. Your virtue will remain intact” he winked and gave Aziraphale a grin, and was rewarded with a rare smirk from the angel. 

“I’m not worried Crowley. Thank you for the offer.” He stood uncertainly “I’d follow a hungry lion into his den if he would promise to help remove this blasted crick”, his pale fingers were back, working at the left side of his neck, through the fabric of his shirt. 

Crowley hoped he didn’t leap up too quickly as he lead Aziraphale towards his bedroom. His heart was racing, but he took a few deep, calming breaths. This wasn’t about passion. It wasn’t about temptation. It was about him being able to alleviate the angel’s pain. About helping him let go of some of those long held anxieties. It was about showing him… love… Crowley’s brain circled the word warily, but settled on it anyway. Love. He loved Aziraphale and missed being close to him. Which was strange, since he’d never been all that close to him to start out with. Was it possible to miss touching someone one rarely ever touched? 

He led Aziraphale into his bedroom and then sat down on the black silk sheets at the edge of the mattress. He grabbed two of his thick, down pillows and stacked them on the floor in front of him. “Its best if you sit here, on the floor in front of me… you know.. For leverage” he explained. 

Aziraphale looked highly doubtful. “On the floor? Really Crowley?”

“You could always sit up here, between my legs” Crowley did let a lascivious smile play across his face then. It had the desired effect. Aziraphale blushed prettily and his hands shot up in front of him in nervous flutters, like the flap of a moth’s wings. “No no Crowley. The floor shall suffice” He came over and slowly, awkwardly lowered himself onto the pillows, grunting a tiny bit with the effort of doing something so unbecoming of a buttoned up angel. 

“You’ll have to take off that bow tie” Crowely remarked with a casualness he definitely did not feel. “And unbutton the shirt”

He felt sure Aziraphale would balk at this, but he didn’t. He simply brought his hands up and started working at the bow tie. Crowley’s heart was in his throat. He took a few more calming breaths and waited , watching Aziraphale’s shoulder muscles work beneath the fabric of his shirt as his hands undid his bow tie and then worked to undo the buttons down his front. “All of them?” he asked, his voice tinted with just a small amount of nervous energy.

“Nah angel. Only the first few, so I can reach inside and get to your shoulder. It is OK to do that right? To reach inside your shirt? I wouldn’t want you to discorporate from the shock to your victorian sensibilities.” He let a bit of laughter color his tone. 

“Yes, yes” sighed Aziraphale. “That would be fine. Anything to feel better at this point”

Crowley ignored the implication that his touch fell into the desperate category of “anything to feel better”. 

Once Aziraphale had placed his bow tie carefully next to him on Crowley’s immaculate tile floor, and had undone the requisite amount of buttons, Crowley carefully and slowly placed both of his hands on Aziraphale’s shoulders, over his shirt. 

“Take a deep breath in” he instructed in a gentle voice. Aziraphale complied without complaint. His broad shoulders rising as he slowly breathed in. Crowley could feel a hitch as he let the air back out again. “Take another one angel” he said in a quiet voice and Aziraphale complied, chest and shoulders rising in another deep breath. This time, there was a shudder as he released his breath out through his mouth in a rush.  _ That’s it _ Crowley thought with deep satisfaction  _ let it all go.  _

After the angel had completely exhaled the second breath, Crowley began to move his hands, with firm, warm pressure, the palms pressing into Aziraphale’s shoulders over his shirt.. Moving them outwards across the planes of the angel’s back, towards his shoulders. Long, slow sweeps out and back, beginning at the angels spine, out over his scapulae, around his shoulders a bit and back. It was a calming, soothing motion, something he’d picked up from a masseur in Greece who’d worked on two consecutive emperors. It calmed the nervous system before any deeper work began. 

After he repeated the motion several times, feeling Aziraphale soften and relax beneath his hands, he brought his thumbs into play, pressing firmly, but not with any real pressure yet into the flesh up by where Aziraphale’s neck muscles met his upper trapezius, his upper back muscles. He heard a soft moan issue from the angel and grinned a bit at the response his hands received. 

Next, Crowley made small circles with his thumbs, out from the base of Aziraphale’s neck, across the muscles atop the angel’s back, out to his shoulder joints. He was pleased to see Aziraphale’s head fall forward slightly in pleasure, to feel the vibration of another happy moan, echoe into his hands through the angel’s warm back. To feel Aziraphale’s warm flesh under his fingertips like this. Trusting and compliant was indescribable. 

“Oh Crowley” Azirapahle breathed in a voice gone slack and loose with pleasure. “That… that feels quite lovely. You weren’t lying about picking up a few tricks over the years”. 

Crowley only hummed in response. This time, he used a bit more pressure and dug his thumbs in a bit deeper at the junctions of Aziraphale’s neck and shoulder, finding the origin points of the thick tendinous muscles that aided in moving the neck and lifting the shoulder. He let his thumb strum across the twin tendons in the upper, inward corners of Aziraphle’s back next to the base of his neck like he would strum the string of a guitar. He heard the angel moan with pleasure, louder this time, and grinned warmly as he saw Aziraphale bring a hand up to his mouth in an attempt to stifle the embarrassing noises coming unbidden out of him. He didn’t remark on it, or tease Aziraphale, not wanting to break the spell of warm intimacy he felt enveloping both of them in this moment, but also because he secretly adored watching Aziraphale’s semi-constant failed attempts to hide his pleasure from Crowley. 

Over the millennia, Crowley had grown to adore the shy gleam in Aziraphale’s eyes at the demon’s ribald jokes and stories. He’d learned to crave Aziraphale’s shocked intakes of breath. His fluttering hands and deep pink blushes. Behind each and every protestation of indecency, underneath the exclamations of “Crowley! How dare you say such a thing!” and “I’m sure I have no idea to what you’re referring”, lay a delectable, hidden note of enjoyment. The angel loved being scandalized by Crowley. And he often did a rather poor job of trying to hide it. But it was the  _ trying to hide _ … the hand over the mouth or at the throat. The shocked gaps that had a hint of theatrical emphasis to them.. This is what Crowley had grown addicted to.

It was probably more than a little… what did modern humans call it? Kinky? But Crowley was always up for perverting straight lines into sensuous curves. Always looking for a way to make things sinful. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that this was an act of love, not of lust. 

He continued working at the place at the base of Azirphale’s neck on both sides with his thumbs, slowly increasing pressure until the angel’s head fell completely forward, exposing the soft back of his neck even further. Crowley took this opportunity to work his thumbs up along the back of Aziraphale’s pale neck, digging them gently into the muscles at the base of Aziraphale’s scull, the sub occipital muscles. He was rewarded with another loud moan. At this point, Aziraphale had abandoned all pretense of stifling the noises coming out of his mouth. He made happy little grunts and groans as Crowley worked, swiftly becoming putty under Crowley’s skilled, slender fingers. 

After working up the length of Aziraphale’s neck a few times, he took a deep stabilizing breath, shoring up his courage, and then drove his fingers slowly into the angels’ lovely white blond curls to work at the muscles under his scalp. 

The angel gasped and pushed his head gently back into Crowley’s touch as the demon used firm, circular motions to work his fingers into the taught skin and thin sheets of muscle that covered Aziraphale’s skull beneath his scalp and halo of pale hair. Very few people ever thought to massage these areas.. These neglected parts of the human body. Crowley knew how to work them all. He massaged from the crown of Aziraphale’s head, down the back and sides, pausing to work the tense flesh that connected the angel’s ears to his head, and to briefly dip his tumbs into the pale seashells of Aziaphle’s ears to give them a swift rub. Then he grabbed careful fistfuls of Aziraphale’s hair and slowly clenched his hands, pulling the hair taught. This opened up the circulation in the scalp and released the build up of tension. 

Immediately though, he realized he’d gone a bit too far in a certain direction. Aziraphale’s gasp of pleasure had a different, more desperate tone, a rough edge to it that held the sound of a blatant need, and he felt the angel’s hands grip tightly and suddenly at his ankles where they flanked Aziraphale’s hips. 

_ Ok… ok. Time to pull this back a bit  _ he thought, feeling passion curling almost painfully deep inside his lower stomach at the sight and sound of Aziraphale’s sudden reaction to his grasping hands in the angel’s hair. With a pure act of will, he unclenched his fists carefully and placed his hands warmly, platonically on Aziaphale’s shoulders again. “Deep breath” he commanded in a soft voice that he was almost certain didn’t shake with the barely averted lust he’d felt building inside of him. He heard and felt the angel take another deep, shaky breath and let it out. 

Once Crowley was sure the tension of the moment had bled out a bit, he started working his thumbs down the sides of Azirapahle’s shoulderblades, close to the spine, down the center of the angel’s back. Now the noises the angel made had reverted back to those of relaxation, not those of a building of something hot and desperate and Crowley relaxed into his work again.

He worked his thumbs as far down as he could reach, being that the edge of the bed formed a soft barrier to Aziraphale’s low back. This was all well and good. If Crowley’s experience had taught him anything, it was that the low back was to be avoided if one wanted to keep touch platonic in situations like these. 

“If I’m really going to get to your shoulders angel, you should take your shirt off” he suggested carefully. “You can leave your undershirt on if you like, but massaging someone through a button down shirt isn’t really all that effective. 

Aziraphale must have been completely inthralled by the massage at this point because he silently shrugged himself out of his shirt without complaint. Underneath, he wore a simple white, sleeveless tank top. Crowley was glad the angel was seated looking away from him, so that he could let his hungry eyes play over Aziraphale’s broad, soft shoulders, uncovered skin he hadn’t seen in possibly 700 years or more. He could see the muscles of Aziraphale’s deltoids and triceps flex gently as he shrugged off his shirt and had to take a deep breath of his own to clear his head of all sorts of imaginings. 

_ Those arms.. Wrapped around me. Those arms, supporting you above me. _

He swiftly shook his head to dispel his fevered thoughts and brought his focus back to the task at hand. The relief of Aziraphale’s pain and tension. He gently laid his hands, palms flat, back against the tops of Aziraphale’s shoulders, to reintroduce the touch in a non threatening way. A non verbal way to say  _ I am here now, this is where my hands are _ . People tended to jump if you grabbed them out of nowhere without this introduction. 

He felt Aziraphale settle under his palms, and then took both hands and began to work, gripping handfuls of the muscle and flesh of Aziraphale’s upper right trapezius and down over his deltoid muscles, the muscles that formed the rounded cap at the top of the angel’s arm on his right side. Grabbing and squeezing, rhythmically as he went, he felt Aziraphale melt under his touch. The moans and grunts had returned. From this position, with both of Crowley’s long, skilled fingers working the tight muscle fibers on Azirphale’s shoulder, the demon could lean over and sneak a peak at the right side of the angel’s face. He saw that Aziraphale’s eyes were closed in pleasure. His mouth was hanging open slightly. He swayed gently as if in a trance.. A spell cast over him by Crowley’s nimble fingers. 

Crowley felt a deep sense of affection and love for the angel bloom inside his chest and threaten to take his breath away as he worked. There was something about Aziraphale being totally enthralled to his touch, but also, the knowledge that he was removing Aziraphale’s tension and stress and pain to the degree that the angel was swaying bonelessly in his grip was deeply satisfying. Moving. Crowley hadn’t seen Aziraphale this relaxed ever. 

_ Ever?  _ He thought about it a bit harder and realized it was true. Aziraphale had never, in the six millennia of their long, long acquaintance, ever been truly, really and truly  _ ever  _ relaxed. Crowley had seen him drunk and stumbling, which was not the same as relaxed. Had seen him ensconced in a comfortable armchair, eyes locked to a beloved first edition, but even then, his shoulders were tensed, his neck bent, his hands grasping at pages and spines. The angel didn’t even sleep for Satan’s sake. 

Crowley had never seen Aziraphale this loosely, sweetly, utterly relaxed. The sight of it, of seeing the angel’s tousled, white blond head tilted forward, his thick lashes brushing the tops of soft cheeks, dusted with the slightest pink blush, the sight of it made Crowley’s heart swell painfully in his chest. He continued working the muscles of Aziraphale’s shoulder, and then encircled his upper arm with both hands and worked the bicep and tricep concurrently. This caused more loud moans to fall from the angel’s half open mouth. Crowley pulled Aziraphale’s loose arm up onto the demon’s right knee so that he could work down the full length of his arm and then dig his tumbs into the flesh of the angel’s palms. 

At this, the angel moaned so loudly that he half woke himself out of the sensual trance he’d been in. His eyes fluttered half open and then drifted shut again as he luxuriated in the feel of Crowley’s nimble fingers working the tension out of his hands, squeezing down the length of each finger, and then giving them each a gentle tug. 

From here, Crowley gently placed Aziraphale’s arm back by his side and moved over to the angel’s left shoulder and left arm, repeating his grabbing and squeezing and working of the muscles there. Once he’d finished Aziraphale’s left side, he decided he was all in at this point. Hoping the angel was compliant and relaxed, he said “ok angel, up onto the bed now. I need to get at your feet”

“But Crowley.. The crick was just in my neck” Aziraphale mumbled “I’d hate to put you out”, but he was already betraying his false protestations by clambering onto the bed, loose limbed and glassy eyed, like a man sedated. 

“Just lay on your back and get comfortable” Crowley instructed in a voice that betrayed the huge, indulgent smile that crept across his face at the sight of his rumpled, utterly relaxed, slightly confused angel, clambering up to lie on the bed. He collapsed bonelessly, head slightly propped up on one of Crowley’s many, silk encased pillows, his eyes already shut again. Crowley then grabbed a pillow from the floor and propped it under Aziraphale’s right ankle, so that his sock clad foot was at a comfortable height to grab with both of Crowley’s hands. The demon sat cross legged at Aziraphale’s foot at the bottom of the bed. 

“One more deep breath for me angel” he intoned and was pleased to see Aziraphale’s soft stomach rising gently and then falling, accompanied by a heavy, soft sigh escaping from the angel’s lips. As Aziraphale breathed out, Crowley brought his hands to the angel’s thick little foot. He simply held the angel’s foot for a minute, relishing the feel of it’s solid weight in his hands. Aziraphale’s feet, like the rest of him were sort of short and stocky. They were utterly adorable really, if Crowley were being completely honest with himself. 

Slowly and with deliberate pressure, he began to knead the bottom of Aziaphale’s foot with his thumbs.

“Oh dear God Crowley” Aziraphale breathed.. Eyes still closed. “That is so lovely. Oh my. Thank you so much”. The  _ so much  _ came out as a groan as Crowley deepened the pressure of his thumbs against the soul of Aziraphale’s foot and worked from the bridge, into the arch and down to the heel. From this position, he could see the pleasure and relaxation written across the angel’s peaceful face. He could watch Aziraphale breathing, and let his eyes play gently over the angel’s loose, heavy arms and legs, his rising and falling chest and belly. It was incredibly intimate, being that they’d never more than shaken hands or sat next to one another on a sofa or in the Bentley before tonight. Their interlaced fingers had felt as intimate as love making after six thousand years of careful friendship. 

Crowley paid special attention to Azirapahle’s ankles and even massaged up into his lower calf muscles, feeling his heart soften further and further as the angel let out happy sighs and deep groans of contentment. He switched to the left foot, working it over with the same attention and care, then up into the angel’s ankle and calf on his left hand side. 

At this point, he was done. There wasn’t all that much more he could massage without going somewhere uncertain, without changing the mood from intimate and sensual and sweet to something else. Something he wasn’t sure either of them were ready for. So with a few sweeps of his hands over the angel’s left lower leg and foot, he slowly withdrew his hands and stretched out next to Aziraphale on the bed. He kept himself a foot or so distant from where Aziraphale lay, propping his head up with his hand as he lay on his side and observed the now catatonic angel. 

“Feel better?” he asked gently, a small smile on is lips as he watched Aziraphale slowly come back to reality. 

“Nnk” replied the angel. He took another deep breath and let it out with a shuddering sigh, then he turned his head and fixed Crowley with such a look of languid, warm affection that the demon felt his breath catch momentarily in his throat. 

Aziraphale didn’t speak. He simply rolled onto his side and gathered Crowley up in his arms in a warm embrace. 

Crowley froze momentarily, his heart pounding at this unexpected change of events. But then, the warm smell of Aziraphale, of vanilla and old paper and pheromones underneath his old fashioned expensive cologne washed over him. The warmth of the angel’s arms quickly soaked into his chest and back where Aziraphale’s thick arms wrapped around him, and where the angel’s hot hands rested across Crowley’s shoulders. 

Crowley quickly surrendered to the immense pleasure of being wrapped in the angel’s warm embrace. He felt himself take a deep breath and let out a long, shuddering exhale of his own and allowed himself to relax completely into Aziraphale’s chest, burrowing his face against the angel’s soft cheek. 

“Thank you Crowley” Aziraphale mumbled into Crowley’s neck, where he’d tucked his warm, mussy head. “I … I… can’t say how good that felt.”

“You’re welcome” Crowly muttered back in a voice choked with awe. “Anytime angel”

Aziraphale pulled back far enough to look deeply into Crowley’s yellow eyes.“I love you” he said, plainly, nakedly. Just said it, unguarded, unafraid, as if he’d said  _ it’s raining  _ or  _ I like pears  _

And then he smiled that smile. That angel smile. That smile that won the hearts of every human that crossed his path, and that had long, long ago reduced Crowley’s own heart to a fiercely glowing ember the moment he’d first laid eyes on it. 

Crowley couldn’t help it. He smiled back, tears filled his eyes and fell sideways, over his nose towards the mattress. He couldn’t speak, but he could tell Aziraphale didn’t care. The angel simply gathered him back up and held him tighter. 

“I couldn’t bare it if one of us doesn’t make it through tomorrow.” he said, into Crowley’s red hair. “I couldn’t bare to lose you” 

“Nor I you” Crowley snuffled through tears that were making it hard for him to breath. Suddenly, he was sobbing. Aziraphale held him tightly and stroked his hair and rocked them both back and forth gently, lovingly while Crowley let all of his fear and sadness out in great, racking sobs. He felt a vague tingle of embarrassment, but he knew it didn’t matter now. Demons don’t cry.. Or love, and yet here he was, doing both with fervent dedication. 

Eventually, he felt his sobs slow to hiccups and then to sighs as the fear and sadness of possibly losing Aziraphale to a pillar of Hellfire, of never having held him like this before.. Of the echoes of all the touches and embraces they’d never had, receded under the onslaught of the angel’s warm arms around him, the angel’s soft voice, murmuring sweet reassurances of “there now” and “It will be alright” in his ear. 

Finally, he summoned the courage to pull back and look at Aziraphale, to look into his lovely eyes and bringing a hand that trembled slightly up to stroke the angel’s hair at his brow. “We’ll be OK won’t we angel?” He asked, needing to hear it directly from Aziraphale.

“Yes my love, we will” Aziraphale’s smile faltered against the certainty in his voice as he spoke “We’ll meet afterwards and tell each other stories and go for a lovely dinner. And then, if you’d be so inclined, I’d rather like to kiss you goodnight” The smile was back, a touch sad now at having witnessed all of Crowley’s sadness. 

“Why wait?” Crowley breathed and captured Aziraphale’s lips with his own. 

Time slowed then as he felt the angel’s soft lips pressing against his, as he heard the angel’s helpless sigh crash gently into the shell of his ear like a caress.  _ This _ was what Heaven truly was. Not the choirs or the polished marble arches or those insufferable goons that shouldn’t even bare the same species name as his precious and beautiful angel.  _ This _ , this soft press of lips and warm clench of arms was true heaven. 

Crowley felt the angel open his hot mouth against him and the kiss deepened, accompanied by a chorus of soft groans of passion from both of them. He felt Aziraphale’s hand pulling desperately, insistently at his hip and he knew this situation could easily end in both of them, naked, intertwined and gasping in pleasure in the blink of an eye. And he wanted that. Oh how he wanted that. 

But…. he also wanted to keep things as they were for just a bit longer. He hated the idea of making love to Aziraphale being the last thing he did. He also thought of the machinations of Heaven and Hell, the way they were surely at this very moment hatching a predictable plan to destroy the both of them, and it kept intruding on his thoughts. He wanted the first time he took Aziraphale as his own to be as free creatures, without the threat of death hanging over the bed. 

With the exertion of an extreme amount of will power, he pulled away from the angel’s soft lips to palm his cheek and gaze back into his eyes. They were both breathless with unspent passion and Aziraphale’s eyes were glossy pools of loving desire. The sight of the angel’s face almost made Crowley falter in his resolve, and he felt a low moan escape his lips as he gazed longingly at Aziraphale. 

“Angel” he choked out with more than a little effort. “Angel, I can’t. Not now with tomorrow looming over us. I want this all done, before we… I want to be with you without the threat of death in the bedroom with us”

“I understand Crowley” Aziraphale’s face was somber, but still his eyes strayed to rest longing on Crowley’s mouth. “Besides, You need a compelling reason to fight your way back to me”

Crowley was only so strong, and he felt himself pulled back, pulled towards the angel’s soft lips until they were kissing again. Kissing with mad, wet, hot abandon. It was understood now, that this was as far as they would go tonight. And still… still… when they finally broke apart, Crowley’s whole body tingled with delicious fire. 

“We should..we should discuss the plan angel” he realized that he had to physically push the angel gently away from him in order to think clearly. Aziraphale understood, and they broke away and sat up, now physically separated, but gazing into each other’s eyes with heated intensity. 

“They’ll want to burn me” Aziraphale said and immediately the mood changed, from passionate to serious. 

“Yes” Crowley remarked with surety. “They absolutely will. You saw the way Gabriel and Beelzebub are clearly in communication with each other. Both sides will work together to try to take us down. And they’re not known for their sparkling imaginations.”

“And for you?..” Aziraphale let the question hang in the air, unable to say it out loud.

“Holy water” confirmed Crowley. “I’m sure of it. It’s common practice down there to kill people ironically. I murdered Ligur with holy water and so they’ll definitely want to give me a taste of my own medicine as it were.”

“We have much to talk about” Aziraphale’s voice had grown somber but determined. “I’ll go fetch that bottle of scotch and we can work out the details.. Yes?”

“Yes please” Crowley felt a small smile make its way back onto his face as the angel’s take charge attitude returned. 

They talked deep into the night, falling asleep for an hour or so close to dawn, wrapped in each other’s embrace. 

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The body swap!

It wasn’t as strange as Aziraphale thought it would be. Though of course it was still plenty strange. Just… easier and less unsettling than he’d assumed it would be. Perhaps this was to do with how well he knew the body he now inhabited. True, he’d never seen Crowley naked. Had never actually seen more than a lovely stretch of bare calf or a long, sun tanned arm, half swathed in robes in a desert somewhere three and a half thousand years ago. Yet he still remembered those glimpses of bare skin. 

He’d so carefully cataloged every move of Crowley’s face and body, all the different ways the sunlight hit his hair, and how the candle light, and later, the light of electric bulbs played across his face. He knew all the moves of Crowley’s long, expressive fingers and all the ways his sharp shoulders cut through the air as he sauntered down the street. 

He was a connoisseur of everything Crowley. An expert on the demon’s smirks and sneers and smiles and laughs. Having spent so many endless years weaving himself in and out of Crowley’s life, so many nights spent talking over ale or wine or mead or cocktails, while the human world blurred around them. Aziraphale almost felt at home in Crowley’s body. Almost. 

It was still admittedly very jarring to look up from their clasped hands to see his own, vaguely surprised face looking back at him. My, had he always been so plump? Had his hair always been this crazy jumble of white blond half-curls that stuck out in all directions? He’d looked down the length of his suddenly long and thin and black clad arm as he’d released Crowley’s (his own?) hand and the feeling was disorienting to say the least. 

But it was far less disorienting than if he’d say.. swapped bodies with a stranger. Inhabiting Madam Tracy’s body had been quite strange, because he didn’t know her at all. Her small, feminine frame, her lower, shorter perspective, the distracting crimson flutters of her bright wig, had all made it very hard for him to fully concentrate while co-inhabiting her form. 

But Crowley’s body, while a bit taller and a lot thinner, was still the closest thing to being at home he could experience outside of his own humble form. Now he looked down at the body he loved so dearly, the tightly clad legs, the long, slender stomach. He brought his hands up to feel the stick thinness of his forearms, to pat at the sharp lines of his shoulders. He looked up at Crowley, who by this point was staring at him with a look of unbridled awe on his face. 

“Hello darling” Aziraphale said, almost jumping at how strange the words sounded in Crowley’s voice. 

“Oh angel” his body said with a smirk of the likes that had never actually appeared on his face before. “You’ll have to work on that accent.” 

Aziraphale smiled in a way he knew would be far too broad and sunny for Crowley’s sharp features. “Shut up angel” he replied, trying out Crowley’s cynical drawl.

He saw Crowley’s face, his own face, grin appreciatively and nod. “Not bad angel!” he seemed truly impressed. He then clutched his hands at his chest and exclaimed in his best Aziraphale impression “My my dahling! Don’t you look simply lovely this evening!” Crowley gave his shoulders a little wiggle for effect, and Aziraphale felt a laugh bubble up inside of him at the accuracy of Crowley’s impression. It gave him sudden hope that this plan might truly work. 

They spent the rest of the morning practicing each other’s mannerisms, and even kissed a little bit, just to see what it was like. Neither one of them particularly enjoyed it. 

Around noon, they parted ways, Crowley went to investigate the charred ruins of the bookshop, while Aziraphale, taking a few last looks in the mirror to make sure he’d affected Crowley’s slouch and sneer, took the lift downstairs and stepped out onto the street. He noticed immediately how the people who walked by, male and female both looked at him in Crowley’s body. Looked at Crowley. The demon was slinky and sexy and highly fashionable. People also often looked at Aziraphale (when he was at home in his own body of course), but their looks held more of the element of loving affection. People were charmed by Aziraphale. They found him sweet and handsome. 

People wanted to have sex with Crowley. Or they envied him. He was sexiness incarnate. Aziraphale felt a moment of pride, thinking that this sensual, dark, handsome creature loved him. That hopefully, if this madcap plan they’d hatched together worked, that he’d have the chance to hold Crowley in his arms again. 

His train of thought was interrupted by the sight of the Bentley. There it sat, across the street in all its chrome and black and gray glory, as if it had never been a fireball of demonic vengeance. Aziraphale felt a warm smile spread across Crowley’s features. My how happy the demon would be to find his most prized possession whole and unharmed. He stepped up to the edge of the sidewalk and hailed a cab for the park. 

_______________________

It didn’t take long for the angels to strike. One minute, Aziraphale was paying the ice cream man, the next, he heard a sharp intake of air and looked around to find that Crowley had disappeared from beside him. He was being dragged away by angels. Sandalphon and Uriel were standing there, smirking at him. Then suddenly, as he’d moved to run after Crowley, he’d felt a white hot pain explode in the back of his head and he’d looked up into Hastur’s ugly, gloating face. Then the world went dark. 

He woke up in the lift down to Hell. He could hear distant screams and moans through the walls. His captors stood flanking him, holding his limp body between them. His hands were tied. His head ached.  _ This is it _ he thought with a thrill of fear. He’d never been in Hell before, but Crowley had made sure to give him any and all salient details. The shuffling hoards of demons. The stench. The flies. The dim, low ceilings and gray, mold covered walls. So it wasn’t a surprise when the lift doors opened with a depressing metallic ding and Aziraphale was confronted with his first sight of Hell. 

They’d half dragged him down a long hallway, lit only by flickering, buzzing neon lights to a large chamber. In front of him, he saw a throne upon which sat Lord Beelzebub, the massive fly atop her head buzzing and flicking it’s greasy wings. Her mouth a mass of pusstuals. To her right stood Dagon, sneering and flinching like the sycophant Crowley had told him she was. To her left stood Hastur. No less revolting for the smug, satisfied look on his face. 

Beelzebub had explained the farse of a trial to him. That he was a traitor who’d betrayed Hell and had consorted with an angel and had averted the much awaited apocalypse. Her voice held less than no expression. She sounded bored as she condemned his dearest beloved Crowley to death. Aziraphale felt a rage build up inside him that he struggled to suppress, lest it give him away. 

Luckily, the demons had no reason to believe he wasn’t who he appeared to be. He’d done a good job of appearing calm and a little irreverent, but hadn’t overdone it. He’d neglected trying to swagger or joke, or even get angry like he was almost certain Crowley would have done. Opting instead for a humble casualness. They appeared to be none the wiser. 

He’d turned around then and noticed the large white, claw footed tub behind him and had immediately felt a giddy rush of relief. Thank all that was holy that they hadn’t chosen a different punishment for him. This would surely work! He’d been genuinely surprised to see Michael. Prim and snippy as a truant officer, in her ridiculous frilly blouse, come walking in with a glass pitcher of holy water. But it made sense really. Who else to convey the deadly liquid into the realms of the underworld than an angel? 

Things had gone rather well from that point on. Aziraphale had carefully stripped off Crowley’s black coat and skin tight jeans, so as not to ruin them, but had kept his socks and boxers and his black tank top on (for decency sake). He’d made a bit of a show about flinching away from the water, making sure they had to half drag him towards it. He even shook his head a bit in a dramatic fashion he’d seen employed in roadside theater troops back in the late 16th century. The mannerisms of a damsel in distress. The demon’s ate it up. He could see Hastur’s pure glee at Aziraphale’s feigned terror. 

His expression changed swiftly to one of shocked horror as Aziraphale had finally stepped stepped into the water, only to sink down into it with languid enjoyment, fully submerging himself. He swiftly threw his head back under the water and rose back up with the dramatic air of a synchronized swimmer, running fingers sensually through his hair and cast a flirty look at the terrified demons behind the plexiglass divider as they watched in fear and confusion. 

He splashed water against the divider, where it sizzled with a satisfying hiss and delighted at the demons flinching away in terror. 

In the end, Beelzebub and Hastor, and even officious, stuffy Michael had agreed that Crowley was to be left alone from now on. Aziraphale felt his heart fly as he realized that the plan had worked! He had won freedom for his dearest love. 

They’d let him grab Crowley's jacket and jeans and take the lift back up all on his own, being that no one wanted to be in an enclosed space with him. Upon entering, he quickly radiated a blast of angelic heat so that the tiniest remnants of holy water evaporated from his (Crowley’s) hair and clothing and skin, and then shrugged his way into the demon's jeans and jacket. It wouldn’t do to burn Crowley after saving him now would it? 

___________________________

Crowley was brought up in the lift to the top floor. He heard the soft ding as it reached it’s destination, and the doors swished open smoothly to reveal a massive, brightly lit chamber. There were floor to ceiling windows that let in almost blinding rays of blue white light. Light splashed everywhere, against the polished marble floors and high ceilings and modern looking, austere marble pillars that rose all around the outer walls of the room. 

Crowley couldn’t help but take a surprised breath at the grandeur of it all. He simultaneously understood exactly why Aziraphale chose to spend all of his time on earth in a humble bookshop. Heaven was dull. Beautiful but sparse and sanitized and uniform. Nothing was exciting, interesting, delicious, scintillating here. Nothing as beautiful as an expertly crafted plate of sushi or a fascinating old book of 19th century poetry. There was nothing to eat or feel or do here other than God’s administrative work. He felt his chest swell with love for his messy, hedonistic angel as he was escorted roughly into the room, towards a chair where the archangel Gabriel waited for him. 

There wasn’t a trial. Crowley wasn’t surprised, but he still couldn’t forget a dark rage from building silently inside him at their cruel and dismissive treatment of what they thought was a sweet, helpless, well meaning angel, who’s only crime had been wanting to save his beloved humanity from destruction. Heartless bastards all of them. Especially Gabriel. That haughty horse’s arse. Crowley felt his hands twitch with the urge to make a mess out of Gabriel’s smug, handsome face. 

He’d given them a chance to make good. When Uriel pulled the ropes from his hands, he’d stood up, straightening his lapels and his tie in what he thought was a flawless impersonation of Aziraphale’s fussy manner. “I don’t suppose I can persuade you to reconsider?” he asked, trying to force a tremulous note of fear into his voice, when all he felt was a cold, dark rage. 

Unsurprisingly, Gabriel was having none of it. “Into the flames” he spat out while the three of them stood there, hands clasped in front of them as if at a board meeting, waiting for his darling Aziraphale to immolate himself in front of them. Crowley clenched his teeth against his building rage and did his best to look subtly terrified as he approached the pillar of billowing orange flame that rose from the floor and spun towards the ceiling. 

“Right. Well” he affected a slight stammer as he drew closer to the pillar of flame and gave the angels a last look “it was lovely knowing you all”  _ you’d all die with my hands around your necks if I had my way.  _ “May we meet on a better occasion” It sounded like something Aziraphale would say at the doorstep of his own execution. Always polite. Always so sweet. 

“Just shut your mouth and die already” Gabrial plastered the most repugnant, insincere smile on his face. A smile that died before it could get anywhere near his eyes. It was then that Crowley swore lifelong hatred for the archangel. If he ever had the chance to meet Gabriel on earth, there would be an incident worthy of starting a war, he was certain of it. He itched to claw the smug bastard’s eyes out. 

Instead, he stepped into the flame. He was satisfied to see the angel’s flinch slightly in physical sympathy, if not emotional pain. They knew that Hellfire would incinerate them.. They knew what it should be doing to Aziraphale and that it would hurt horribly. 

He felt the warm flames engulf him like a hot bath, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to worry about Aziraphale, down in the dark corridors of Hell, hopefully being confronted with a tub full of holy water. He prayed fervently that his angel was safe and that this would soon be over before making a big show of luxuriating in the flowing streams of hot flame that licked at his clothing and skin. He cracked his neck with languorous enjoyment and slowly opened his eyes to fix the shocked angels with a small smile. 

The look on their faces was one of the most beautiful things Crowley had ever seen. Shock and horror painted in broad strokes across Gabriel’s face, and Sandalphon looked as if he were going to be sick. Uriel’s dark complexion had gone a bit gray. 

Crowley took a deep inhale and spat a long, thick stream of flame directly at them and they jumped back in alarm.  _ Good  _ he thought with satisfaction  _ you deserve every second of this for what you’ve tried to do _

After he’d calmly stretched and rolled his shoulders and made a dramatic show of just how much the Hellfire was not doing a damn thing to harm him, they’d let him step from the flames on his own. No one wanted to come near him. 

He’d straighted his (Aziraphale’s) jacket and bow tie one more time, tugging briefly on the angel’s ancient waistcoat in a move that was so extremely Aziraphale, and had fixed the angels with a level gaze.

“As you can see” He said, in his most haughty, most obnoxiously officious Aziraphale tone… the tone that the angel regularly used when trying to put Crowley in his place, “your attempts to immolate me haven’t worked out the way you planned. I think from now on, it would be best if you kept your noses  _ out  _ of my business. Don’t you?”

Gabriel, Sandalphone and Uriel could only nod mutely. Their eyes were full of fear and awe. 

Crowley turned to address the minor demon who’d brought the Hellfire up from below and had stuck around by the lift as a witness. “That goes for the demon Crowley as well” he said with an arch look. The demon had nodded rapidly, backing away from Crowley as he advanced on the lift doors.

The angels let him enter the lift and watched with a hint of relief painting their stuffy faces as the doors had swished shut, leaving Crowley alone in the small space. His knees threatened to buckle with relief as he felt the lift move downwards. He’d done it! He’d done it! Joy flooded his chest and he felt a broad smile spread its way across the angel’s lovely face. He doubted that even wearing Aziraphale’s body like a suit of armor, he could ever hope to smile with the beaming loveliness that the angel could evoke. 

_ Aziraphale _ . His sweet angel. Suddenly, his dark mood returned when he remembered the cold, utterly heartless way Gabriel and the rest had treated his beloved. How many times had Gabriel dismissed Aziraphale? Criticized him? Threatened him? How awful for his angel to have spent eternity serving under that bastard? Aziraphale had been so dedicated, and simultaneously had been so hard on himself for never being the “perfect angel” that he saw Gabriel being. 

The lift continued its descent and Crowley worked hard to push down the anger and sadness he felt at his love’s mistreatment. His dark mood was immediately shot through with a thrill of fear at the thought that Aziraphale might not have made it. He felt sick to his stomach with dread at the thought of Aziraphale being discovered. The lift reached the right floor and the doors dinged open, and he was through them, nearly running for Berkeley Square park. 

  
__   
__   



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, this is the smut chapter. I hope you all enjoy. Thank you so much for reading and commenting! It makes me so happy!

Crowley spotted Aziraphale immediately, sitting on the park bench where they’d decided to meet. He felt his heart flood with relief and love at the sight of the angel, swathed in Crowley’s own body, sitting uncharacteristically primly on the bench with his hands on his knees. Aziraphale spotted him quickly. It would be difficult, Crowley assumed not to pick your own face out of a crowd. Especially a face as bright and beautiful as this one. Crowley saw his own features split into a wide grin, and hurried to join the angel. Aziraphale rose and went to embrace him, and Crowley fell into his (literally his own) arms. It was strange and disorienting, but it felt good. He’d needed to touch Aziraphale to make sure he was alright. Realizing that they were in public, the two broke apart reluctantly and sat next to each other as if they’d met up as old friends. 

Eventually, when they’d ascertained that no one was looking, they clasped hands and after a flurry of celestial/infernal energy swirled between them, they were once again at home in their own bodies. Crowley stretched a bit, happy to be back in his own slender body. It had been highly distracting to be surrounded by Aziraphale’s soft, plush frame. Distracting and arousing. 

“Well” he remarked with a casualness he didn’t feel “Time to leave the garden.” He leaned back on the bench, letting his long leg fall open and his torso twist towards Aziraphale in a way he hoped was alluring “Tempt you to a spot of lunch?”

The angle wiggled with delight “Temptation accomplished!” he exclaimed happily. “I have a feeling there’s an excellent table that just opened up at the Ritz.” And with that, they were off.  __   
  


They owed each other this celebratory meal. A chance to finally eat together in public without fear of discovery. How many meals and meetings for drinks, and clandestine conversations had passed by over the millennia that had been tinged with paranoia, had been mildly hampered by guilt? Now, they strode into the Ritz and requested a table for two, arm in arm. The hostess had referred to Aziraphale as Crowley’s “partner” (“would you and your partner like a table by the piano?”) and Aziraphale had blushed and smiled so prettily. Crowley felt his chest bursting with pride to have such a lovely creature on his arm. 

They’d settled themselves at one of the best tables in the place, and had ordered champaign. Aziraphale had gazed with delight over the menu and had ordered patee and mousse and cheeses and beef Wellington and pear salad. He’d ordered enough for an army and Crowley loved him for it. His angel knew how to celebrate. They’d drunk the champaign and traded stories of the body swap and Crowley had sat with his head in his hand, gazing longingly and lovingly at Aziraphale as the angel ate and spoke, his cheeks flushed with pleasure. 

He had a sudden, mad urge to propose marriage. To get down on one knee and ask Aziraphale, beg him to spend the rest of their immortal lives together as legal spouses. It was a silly notion.. Not the eternal union part of it, but the legality.. The gold ring and the paperwork and all. He’d had enough of paperwork to last ten thousand more years. Yet still, he was so suffused with love and admiration for his beautiful angel, it was making him feel rash and romantic in a way he’d never quite felt before. 

“Will you marry me angel?” he asked simply, cutting Aziraphale off mid story. 

Aziraphale’s voice stuttered to a halt and he gazed at Crowley with open mouthed awe. “What was that my dear?” he asked in a voice that sounded lost, a forkful of beef Wellington pausing on it’s way to his mouth. 

“You heard me. I asked if you would marry me” Crowley was suddenly very nervous. His pulse raced and his palms dampened. When had this spur of the moment romantic notion made its way out of his mouth and into the space between them? Yet once the words were spoken, he knew it was right and good and what he truly wanted. A declaration. A request. His heart pounded in his throat as he waited for Aziraphale’s response. 

“Oh Crowley” Aziraphale said softly, a well shaped hand making its way up to his mouth, the delicately chosen forkful of beef descending to rest on his plate. His eyes were suddenly full of joy and shining with unshed tears. “Oh Crowley, dearest. Nothing would make me happier” he breathed. 

Crowley leapt forward in his chair and enveloped Aziraphale in a fierce embrace and kissed him. He pulled back swiftly, cognizant of the fact that they were in a public place, and a quite proper one at that, with a large grin plastered to his face. “Good” he said simply. “Now can I try some of that mousse? It looks fantastic.” 

They stayed in the restaurant for hours, lingering over the food and drinking two more bottles of champaign. Every few minutes, Azirapahle would fix Crowley with a look of such deep longing, over the brim of his champagne glass, or while patting his mouth daintily with a white cloth napkin that the demon had to suppress urges to grab the angel by the hand and drag him bodily back to his flat to ravish him. But he restrained himself. This long luncheon was more than just a meal together. It was a ritual. A sacred ritual to mark the beginning of their free life together. It was to be fully enjoyed to the last crumb and the last sip. 

Still, by the time the check came, he had to fight against the tides of lust that swept over him whenever Aziraphale’s hand brushed his own or whenever the angel fixed him with another wanton, heated look with his large hazel eyes. He could see the effect his own piercing glances back at Aziraphale were having as well. The angel was blushing almost continually now, struggling a bit to keep up the conversation. By the time the waiter returned with the receipt and Crowley’s credit card the two of them had dropped the pretense of speech ad were simply gazing deeply into the other’s eyes, lost completely. 

Crowley dragged his eyes from Aziraphale’s long enough to put his card back into his wallet and pulled the angel to his feet. “My flat?” he asked, his voice rough and urgent. 

“Yes. Yes. Right away” Aziraphale grasped his hand and he fairly dragged the blushing angel out to the Bentley, both of them draping their coats strategically over their arms to hide the state they were in.

On the drive over to the Crowley’s flat, Aziraphale had the nerve to reach a hot hand over to idley, affectionately stroke Crowley’s upper thigh as he drove. 

“Angel. If you keep that up, I’ll crash this car into the nearest building and discorporate both of us” he rasped out. 

“Sorry dearest. I’ll do my best to be patient” Aziraphale’s voice held a teasing note to it that only served to inflame Crowley further, but he obediently removed his hand. The heat of it still lingered in the fabric of Crowley’s jeans, and he struggled to remain focused on the road in front of him. 

He parked the Bentley haphazardly in front of his flat and they somehow made it up to the third floor, kissing madly in the lift. They had to break apart long enough for Crowley to get his flat door open and get them inside, but then he closed the door with Aziraphale’s body has he pushed the angel roughly up against it and returned to his worship of Aziraphale’s mouth. 

The angel kissed him back with a hot fervor that made Crowley’s knees weak. He scrabbled with trembling hands at the angel’s ridiculous bow tie, mangling it in his haste to pull it off and unbutton Aziraphale’s shirt, while the angel’s industrious fingers worked to unbuckle and tug down Crowley’s tight pants. 

Soon, with frantic pulls, they managed to remove their clothing and finally pressed their fully naked bodies together. Crowley was certain he’d lose consciousness as the feel of Aziraphale’s soft chest and belly made contact with his skin and as he felt the angel’s hot length pressing with blazing urgency against his own straining cock. He moaned into Aziraphale’s kiss and then broke away briefly.

“Angel” he panted, his eyes trained on Aziraphale’s flushed face. “You feel… You feel  _ so fucking good _ ” 

“Yes my love. Yes you feel  _ amazing _ ” The angel’s eyes were full of need, his irises blown wide, making his eyes appear darker than their normal gray green. He looked desperate and joyful. 

“I won’t last long angel.”

“Neither will I darling. I’ve needed this for so long”

Crowley groaned at the angel’s words crashed their mouths back together, sucking at Aziraphale’s soft lips and winding his tongue inside the angel’s mouth with slick urgency. He thrilled to the high pitched little noises that spilled from Aziraphale as they ground their bodies together with delirious friction. Crowley leaned back slightly and snuck an arm down between them to wrap a long fingered hand around Aziraphale’s base and heard the angel’s gasp of pleasure followed by a deep moan as Crowley began gently stroking him. The angel felt so good, so hot and full in his hand. 

When Aziraphale took his lead and grasped Crowley in return, Crowley momentarily lost his ability to stand up fully and felt his knees buckle, let his head fall forward, weak with pleasure against Aziraphale’s shoulder for a moment. “Oh fuck angel. Oh fuck” he gapsed out against Aziaphale’s collarbone as the angel pumped him slowly and steadily with a thick, hot hand. 

They stood there, Aziraphale half collapsed against the door of Crowley’s flat, Crowley half collapsed against Aziraphale, working each other by hand, feeling the pleasure and tension rising swiftly between them. Crowley knew he would reach his limit soon. Aziraphale’s smell, the sounds of him, open mouthed and gasping in pleasure at what Crowley’s hand was doing to him.. The searing hot pull of Aziraphale’s gentle hand around his cock.. It was pushing him swiftly towards his peak. 

He leaned away from where he’d rested his head against Aziraphale’s broad shoulder to look in the angel’s glazed, half lidded eyes. “I’m getting close angel” he confessed with breathless urgency. 

“Yes Crowley.  _ Yes _ . I. I am too.”

“Come for me so I can watch you” 

As he said the words, Crowley increased the pace of his strokes on Aziraphale’s pulsing cock. 

“ _ AH! _ Oh my love. I’m close. I’m… I’m going to come soon” the angel ,trembling with desire, threw his head back against the door, but kept his eyes, full and shining, locked with Crowley’s.

Crowley brought his other hand up to grasp the back of Aziraphale’s neck and peered intently into his eyes while he worked the angel faster still. “Let go my love” he commanded in a husky gowl. “Come for me  _ please _ ”

He watched with intent fascination as he saw pleasure sweep across angel’s flushed face. Watched his eyes tighten, his mouth gaping, his brows knitting as he cried out, sharp and high pitched as his orgasm swelled through him. Crowley felt hot slick semen spill over his hand and then he couldn’t hold out any longer and he too was gasping out his pleasure, thrusting his cock into Aziraphale’s tight grasp and crying out the angel’s name as he came hard and fast. 

Eventually, as their cries faded and their breath returned to a pace approaching normal, Crowley brought his hand up to his mouth and licked it slowly clean, smiling and looking Aziraphale dead in the eyes while he did so, just to watch the angel blush an impossibly deeper shade of pink. Then, with a quick snap of infernal energy, he cleaned them both of the sweet smelling mess that had spilled between them. 

“I need to be in a bed now” he said simply and led a very dazed and very loose seeming Aziraphale down the hall to his bedroom, where they both collapsed bonelessly onto Crowley’s black silk sheets. Aziraphale lay on his back and Crowley lay on his side and curled himself around the angel, wrapping his free arm over Aziraphale’s chest and slinging his leg over the angel’s hips. He nuzzled his face into the crook of Aziraphale’s neck and sighed deeply, breathing in angel’s intoxicating smell. 

He could feel the angel’s heartbeat, steady and soft against the arm he’d flung across the angel’s broad chest. He slowly kissed the side of Aziraphale’s neck and then the side of his face, his brow, his cheekbone, the corner of his sweet mouth. Aziraphale hummed happily and turned in Crowley’s embrace to lie on side so that they were chest to chest now. 

“Tell me how much you love me” he cooed with a soft smile.

“I’ve proposed marriage” Crowly grumbled “Isn’t that enough proof?” He loved teasing Aziraphale whenever possible.

“But..” Aziraphale pouted, in much the same way he’d manipulated Crowley into blowing away paintball stains from his favorite coat only the day before yesterday. “I like to hear it”. His eyes had grown impossibly larger and sweeter and softer. 

“Very well then” Crowley relented without a fight. “How much do I love you? Lets see now.” He thought for a moment, and then drove his long fingers up into Aziraphale’s hair. “I love this hair of yours. It’s so wild and so ridiculous. The first time I saw you, back on the wall above the Garden, so long ago, I was consumed with a need to put my hands in it.”   
  
Aziraphale wriggled closer to him and sighed, rubbing their noses together. “What else darling? Tell me”

Crowley, brought a gentle finger up to tenderly stroke Aziraphale’s sweet lower lip. “I love these lips of yours” he said, “I’ve wanted to kiss them for thousands of years. These lips have kept me up nights.” He kissed Aziraphale gently.

“I love how much you love food, I love your appetite” he crooned into Aziraphale’s pale ear. “I love your soft stomach and your thick thighs and your silly little feet. I love how angry I make you and how you get so flustered when I tease you” he reached an arm around Aziraphale and pulled him tight against his body, hearing the angel moan softly in his warm embrace. 

“I love your courage. How you went down into Hell and stood up against a trial of demons so that we could earn our freedom” His tone had turned serious and his clasped Aziraphale’s face in his hands and gazed intently into his eyes. 

“I love your intelligence, how you have all the world’s literary knowledge locked up in your beautiful brain. I love how you nibble at your lower lip when you’re distracted. I love your blush and I love making you blush.” And with that, he leaned in close to the angel’s ear and spoke with a velvet whisper “I love the taste of your delicious cum on my tongue.”

True to form, Aziraphale blushed crimson and Crowley chuckled as he pulled back to observe it. “See angel. I love when you do that” his voice was full of his smile. 

He grew serious again then and fixing Aziraphale, now, flushed and grinning like a fool under the onslaught of kind, passionate words from his formerly rather grumpy demon, with a fierce look, he spoke softly and intently. 

“I love you profoundly angel. Deeply. With every cell of my body, with every inch of my demon’s heart and with every cubit of my soul. I love you so much, so terribly much that if you hadn’t made it back up here today, I’d have gone down after you and ripped Hell apart to get you back into my arms, or I’d have died trying.” 

“ _ Oh Crowley _ ” Aziraphale melted into Crowley’s kiss, pulling him tighter in a fierce embrace. 

______________________________________

  
  


Aziraphale’s heart soared upon hearing Crowley’s words of devotion. He’d waited a very very long time to know that Crowely loved him. He’d had inklings, in the way the demon teased him, looked at him sometimes when his glasses were off, or even when his glasses were  _ on  _ there was a certain way that Crowley looked with the rest of his face, with the way he turned his head at Aziraphale, as if orienting himself towards something extremely important. 

He felt Crowley’s arms pulling him tighter and the demon deepening the kiss in ways that made Aziraphale’s entire body tingle. 

He’d fought his feelings for Crowley for so very long. It wasn’t allowed. It was wrong. It was  _ unprofessional  _ and what was worse, it was  _ illegal  _ to feel how looking at Crowley made him feel, so he’d bottled it up and pushed the demon away again and again. Afraid his love for Crowley would make him fall from Grace, or harm himself, or make Crowley’s side harm his precious demon.

Still, he’d  _ wanted _ Crowley.  _ Needed  _ him so badly. Last night, the astoundingly good massage Crowley had delivered with loving, thorough fingers had completely undone all of Aziraphale’s defenses. It had exorcised all the ghosts of pain and anxiety and fear hiding in all of the parts of Aziraphale that Crowley had touched. It had broken Aziraphale open in the most amazing way. 

Afterwards, loose and warm and full of human brain chemicals, it had been so easy, so simple to confess his feelings. He silently thanked the crick in his neck that had led Crowley to offer to touch him. Thank God for Her small miracles. 

Now, they were free. Free and in each other’s arms, and Crowley’s lips were slick and hot against his own and the demon’s delightful smell of posh cologne and hair product and his smoky skin underneath it was surrounding him, and his body was reacting  _ strongly _ . 

“Speaking of the taste of your cum” Crowley whispered against his lips and then bent his head to kiss Aziraphale on the side of his neck. Aziraphale moaned, picking up on the suggestion of what Crowley wanted. “Oh my dearest… yes. Please” he begged, against hot demon kisses that were trailing their way down his chest. “I’ve never experienced that before” he felt he should warn Crowley before things went much further. 

“It’s OK angel” Crowley murmured against the flesh of Aziraphale’s stomach in a way that made heat clench sharply deep inside. “I haven’t done it to anyone before”

“What?” Surprise temporarily broke through Aziraphale’s intense arousal and he lifted himself on his elbows to gaze down at Crowley in disbelief. “You’ve never… well… you haven’t?”

Crowley looked back at him with bright yellow eyes from where he’d been worshiping his way towards Aziraphale’s throbbing cock. “Never” he said simply “Humans don’t really do it for me. No one’s really ‘done it for me’ but you to be honest.”

Aziraphale felt love flood his chest at those words. Not that he’d have minded if Crowley had dabbled with humans, only he was glad they felt the same way, and he told Crowley this. “Ever since I laid eyes on you, I wanted no one else darling.” He could feel himself grinning like a fool. 

He saw heat flash in Crowley’s eyes and watched a slow smile make its way across the demon’s handsome features. “Well then” the demon purred in a velvety voice.. “We’ll just have to make this up as we go along” and with that, he gently kissed the tender skin just above Aziraphale’s jutting cock and Aziraphale gasped out in pleasure and moaned his anticipation. 

Crowley began slowly by laying soft, gentle kisses, one by one down the length of Aziraphale’s rock hard cock, from tip to base and back again, and Aziraphale fell back and gripped the sheets as he gasped at the new sensation.

He’d spent an inordinate amount of time staring at Crowley’s soft beautiful lips over the majority of the past six millenia. When the one you love wears dark glasses all the time, other aspects of their face take on more pominance. Not that Crowley’s lips weren’t hypnotizingly lovely, even with his glasses off, but …having them be highlighted by dark shades was… well it was something else.

Aziraphale had dreamed of kissing them, of slipping his tongue between them, of biting them until they were flushed and bruised with passion. He’d also dreamed of Crowley using his beautiful mouth on Aziraphale’s aching cock, but had pushed those thoughts away too many times as something highly un-angelic of him to be passing his time with. 

Now, to have his fantasies come true? He arched his back and groaned as Crowley used his clever, hot tongue to flick out and taste the head of Aziraphale’s cock with gentle licks. “Oh Crowley! Oh dear lord, you’re driving me mad” he gasped out in a breathless plea. “Please take me into your mouth. Please. I can’t bare it any longer”

Crowley immediately complied, sinking his hot mouth all the way down on Aziraphale’s cock with one long, slow sweep of his lips. Aziraphale cried out at the intense pleasure and reached trembling hands down to wind them in Crowley’s silky hair. 

“Oh darling. Oh dearest. Oh my sweet sweet darling. Oh my  _ love _ ” words of angelic praise spilled from his lips in a rush as Crowley began a slow, torturous rhythm of sliding his hot mouth back and forth along Aziraphale’s length. The angel’s hands clenched and unclenched in Crowley’s burnt copper hair. His breath exploded out of him in gusts and was sucked back in in desperate gasps. He couldn’t believe how incredibly good it felt to have that soft mouth encasing him, pulling at him. 

“Oh my darling, just like that. Just like that...If you go any faster I’ll lose control.” he begged, daring to look down at the demon at his work. His breath caught at the sight of Crowley, looking up at him with wicked yellow eyes, his high boned cheeks hollowed around Aziraphale’s cock as he bobbed slowly, ever so slowly up and down. The sight threatened to push him over the edge, so he lay back down again.

Crowley pulled up and off Aziraphale’s cock with a soft, lurid pop to whisper up at Aziraphale “I love the idea of you losing control angel. I love the idea of me making you explode in my mouth” He sounded breathless and beautiful and Aziraphale could only moan in response.

With that, Crowley renewed his oral attentions, this time increasing speed and pressure. Aziraphale gasped anew and cried out the demon’s name. “Oh! Oh! Oh my dearest. I’m too close. I’m … I’m too close. You’ll make me come soon dearest… I…”

Crowley moaned happily around his cock in response and kept up the tortuous pace with his searing hot mouth. Aziraphale felt his balls clench, his lower stomach tighten and then he was exploding in pleasure, pulsing in ecstasy, spasming into Crowley’s clever mouth. He gasped out Crowley’s name again and again, marveling at the freedom he felt to proclaim his loves name, loudly, into the air. The waves of intense pleasure swept through him for what felt like a long time, and no time at all concurrently. Was it always like this? He wondered absently, through a haze of intense feeling and emotion. Like being torn apart and put back together at the same time? 

Crowley crawled up to wrap him in his warm arms and kiss him with a mouth that tasted of Aziraphale’s essence and to whisper declarations of love in his ear. Aziraphale was loose and warm and incandescently happy. He could feel Crowley’s unspent passion pressed against him where the demon now lay on top of him though, and it made him want again.

“Crowley” he whispered into the demon’s ear. “Crowley, I’d like it very much if you would, …” he struggled to find the terminology to explain what he wanted and settled on “enter me”

He heard Crowley groan deeply and thrust his hips urgently against him at the sound of the angel’s request. “Oh fuck Aziraphale.” That’s all he seemed capable of getting out at the moment as he leaned in and captured Aziraphale’s mouth in a searing hot kiss. He broke away and looked intently at the angel “are you sure?”

“I’ve never been surer dearest. I need you.. Inside of me.” Aziraphale blushed at his forwardness, but the demon’s mouth on his, tasting of his own recently spent cum was a compelling reminder that they were beyond being polite. 

“I’ll be ever so gentle” Crowley crooned against his lips. 

“Oh… “ Aziraphale struggled for a moment with what he wanted to say next. “I’d… rather… well Crowley, I’d rather prefer if you weren’t gentle. I’d very much like it if you were quite rough actually”

Crowley made an incoherent noise and renewed the grinding of his cock against Aziraphale’s hip. “Angel” he gasped out, eyes intent on Aziraphale’s face. “If you keep talking like that, this will be over very...very... quickly.”

Aziraphale grinned and kept his mouth shut. Crowley wedged his body between Aziraphale’s legs and the angel parted them gladly, groaning at the feel of his renewed arousal pressing up against Crowley’s cock with velvety friction. Crowley swiftly hoisted Aziraphales legs over his shoulders with surprising strength, causing the angel to gasp in surprise. “I’ll go slow in the beginning” he panted, his chest rising and falling faster in excitement, his dark red hair a wild, disheveled mess above his sharp yellow eyes. He was the sexiest, most beautiful creature Aziraphale had ever seen. 

“I love you so much Crowley. So much I can barely stand it” Aziraphale whispered, watching his words cause a fond smile to bloom across Crowley’s handsome face. 

“I love you too my husband” and with that, Crowley slowly began to stroke himself in preparation, spreading the copious slick precum oozing from the head of his long thick cock over and down with his hand. The sight made Aziraphale twitch with desire. His own cock was fully hard again and bobbing gently between them. Crowley reached his other hand down to probe carefully at Aziraphale’s tight anus, gently making small circles with his fingertip and then pressing inwards. Aziraphale moaned in pleasure.

“Give me more my dearest. Deeper. Please. This body isn’t breakable”. Crowley moaned at the angel’s words and plunged his finger in deep. When the angel did nothing but gasp in pleasure and move his hips, he added two more fingers and set about fucking Aziraphale with his hand, while his other hand stroked his slick cock. 

“Please Crowley” Aziraphale was begging now “Please enter me. Please, I need you to be inside me now”

Crowley swiftly complied, placing the head of his cock against Aziraphale’s opening and pushing in, slowly and completely in one, long thrust. He bottomed out inside Aziraphale with a deep moan. 

“Oh angel” he drew the word ‘angel’ out, long and slow. “Oh  _ fuck _ angel, you’re so  _ hot _ . You’re so  _ tight _ . I love how you feel.” he slowly pulled back, almost all the way out and pushed back in, his eyes fluttering closed with the intense pleasure as Aziraphale cried out and gripped his shoulders. 

“Crowley. Oh god.. You’re filling me up so good. You feel so good. I.. I.. can’t stand it. Faster please Crowley.”

Crowley didn’t move right away. He kept his eyes closed and took a deep breath, steadying himself. “You’ll have to give me a moment angel” he growled through gritted teeth. “I’m too close already and I want this to last more than five seconds” 

Aziraphale didn’t dare to move. He simply waited, feeling the immense pleasure of Crowley’s cock resting deep inside him. He felt it twitch gently and moaned, deep in his throat with anticipation. 

Crowley must have forced his human body to obey him, because after a minute or two, he pulled back a few inches and slammed himself back inside Aziraphale with a soft grunt. Aziraphale cried out as he felt explosions of pleasure radiate from inside of him. His cry spurred Crowley into motion and the demon pulled out and thrust in again, and then again, setting up a steady pace of short withdrawals and sharp thrusts. 

Aziraphale, his mind blank, his mouth agape, his breath coming out in short gasps as Crowley’s hips slammed into him over and over, reached out a hand to grasp Crowley’s hip. He pulled the demon into him with each thrust and groaned at the intense pleasure of it. With his other hand, he grasped his own straining cock and began to slowly work it up and down. 

Crowley groaned above him, his eyes open now and devouring the sight of Aziraphale beneath him, pleasuring himself, his body jerking slightly with every violent thrust of the demon’s hips. “I love you. I love you. I love you” he gasped out as he fucked Aziraphale, each thrust a confession, a form of worship. He was breathing heavily through his mouth now, a thin sheen of sweat making his narrow, lithe chest and neck and stomach look all the more insanely sexy as he slammed hot length inside of Aziraphale over and over. 

Aziraphale felt his orgasm begin with a warning tingle and he locked eyes with Crowley. “I’m going to come now my darling, my husband. I’m going to come  _ so hard. _ ” he increased the speed of his hand on his aching cock and felt his stomach clench as his orgasm swept through him. He yelled out Crowley’s name and felt hot spurts of semen fall like rain against his chest and stomach. 

The sights and sounds of Aziraphale losing control pushed Crowley quickly over the edge. He grabbed Azirapahle’s thick hips and thrust deeply inside of him, as far as he could get and spasmed, his hips jerking in desperate, small thrusts. “Oh dear… oh... dear...  _ GOD! _ ” he blasphemed carelessly, crying out Her name as he came, helpless moans falling from his open mouth. 

He collapsed then on top of Aziraphale, snapping his fingers with his last ounce of strength to clean the mess from between them, then he wrapped his arms around his trembling, gasping angel and promptly lost consciousness. 

Aziraphale smiled into Crowley’s sweat damp hair. His sweet demon, limp and asleep atop him felt almost as good as the orgasm that had just ripped through him. It was all so good. Crowley’s love, his affection, his beautiful body against him. 

Their days of hiding were over. His days of pretending to feel nothing but fond companionship for Crowley were over. He sighed deeply and wrapped the demon up in his arms, rocking him gently and smiling as he heard Crowley’s soft snore break the silence of the bedroom. He could stay like this forever. 

“I love you Crowley. My love. My life. My dearest husband” he muttered into the side of Crowley’s sweet smelling head and squeezed him tighter. 


End file.
